By early 1997, if all goes according to plan, Emin Gadzhiyev, a 46-year-old native of the former Soviet Republic of Azerbaijan who became an American citizen last June, will become a corrections officer in Broward County, Florida. He will also become the first person ever to graduate from both an American law enforcement academy and the KGB's Feliks Dzerzhinskiy University. For nine years, Gadzhiyev served in the KGB's Second Chief Directorate, which was in charge of domestic security. In fact, according to his employment application with the Broward County Sheriff's Department, Gadzhiyev's duties included supervising and inspecting "temporary detention facilities" on behalf of the Soviet gulagmasters -- an interesting apprenticeship for service as an American law enforcement officer.

Joe Crankshaw, an author and journalist who is collaborating on Gadzhiyev's memoirs, regards the erstwhile Soviet secret policeman as a portrait of the American Dream. "Here's a guy who was our sworn enemy, a real thorn in our side," Crankshaw told THE NEW AMERICAN. "But he's come here and made a career for himself in law enforcement, earned his pilot's license, taught himself English, and he's done it all the American way, with no special treatment." This would be a pretty impressive turnaround for Gadzhiyev, who, as a KGB official, was awarded the Red Star of the Soviet Union for arranging to steal classified Space Shuttle technology from an American scientist.

Although his greatest triumph was in the field of foreign espionage, Gadzhiyev specialized in domestic affairs. As Soviet analyst J. Michael Waller points out in his book Secret Empire: The KGB in Russia Today, the Second Chief Directorate -- which is now called the Federal Security Service -- maintains "armies of full-and part-time agents and informers in universities, factories, research and scientific institutes, farms and agricultural collectives, editorial offices of publications, and other locations." There are certain habits of mind that one develops in the employ of such a service, habits which are not particularly compatible with an American police officer's duty to uphold the U.S. Constitution.

Dzerzhinskiy Disciple

It is indeed inspiring when a sworn enemy undergoes a change of heart and becomes an ally. However, Gadzhiyev -- who insists that he left the KGB to protest its corruption (rather than its murderous ideology) -- displays no signs of contrition regarding his former occupation. Crankshaw, who has come to know Gadzhiyev well, maintains that "Emin is a very pragmatic guy. He doesn't run away from his past; he's proud of the way he served his country." Nor has his background raised any significant suspicions among his associates or superiors, according to Crankshaw: "Nobody seems to give a damn, to tell the truth."

In a telephone interview, THE NEW AMERICAN asked Gadzhiyev if he had ever felt any misgivings about the Chekist ideology he served with such distinction. Gadzhiyev replied by describing KGB founder Dzerzhinskiy as "a revolutionist with the group [Bolsheviks] that was fighting against the monarchy, the same kind of organization that was in France and Germany, fighting for the same ideals.... When Dzerzhinskiy became founder of the Cheka, organized crime was a big problem to be dealt with, and he fought against it and finally they won -- there was no more organized crime."

Gadzhiyev allows that the Cheka -- which became the KGB -- was quite properly notorious, but he insists that this was a perversion of a basically idealistic entity: "At the first, the Cheka was simply fighting for survival [of the Soviet state] and struggling with organized crime, and only a small percentage of what it did was political. Later on it became God-knows-what."

Gadzhiyev's lingering reverence toward Dzerzhinskiy is predictable, given the fact that the mass murderer has been the object of a quasi-religious cult of personality that continues to exist today. As Michael Waller points out, "A large bust of Dzerzhinskiy on a marble pedestal at [KGB] foreign intelligence headquarters is almost an object of veneration; it is always surrounded by fresh flowers. All young Soviet intelligence officers had to lay wreaths or flowers by the bust and meditate with their heads bowed in solemn contemplation."

A Bolshevik of Polish extraction and (like nearly all of the early Bolsheviks) a petty criminal, Dzerzhinskiy created the Cheka on December 20, 1917 in compliance with a directive from Lenin. That directive ordained the creation of an agency to be the "sword and shield of the revolution," a weapon that would "persecute and liquidate all attempts and acts of ... counterrevolution" and "seek out, arrest, and shoot immediately all members [of] counterrevolutionary organizations...." Dzerzhinskiy once told a reporter that "we represent in ourselves organized terror -- this must be said very clearly...." To the extent that the Cheka conquered organized crime, it was by absorbing it and harnessing it to serve the Soviet elite, rather than by eliminating it as a threat to law-abiding people.

Gadzhiyev also says that "only a few individuals" in the U.S. have expressed concerns about his former occupation and insists that "I've spent nearly ten years in the states in a unit very similar to mine back in the Soviet Union, doing exactly the same job. There's absolutely no difference at all." In fact, he believes that the time has come for police to unite globally to fight Russian organized crime (ROC):

I can assure you that there's no difference [between Soviet and American law enforcement agencies]. And I can assure you that ROC doesn't have a nationality or citizenship. It's a very organized force. And until law enforcement has a mentality above citizenship [and] politics ... they're going to win, because they don't care who you are, what country you're working for, or what political agendas you have in mind....

Gadzhiyev states that he has been urging American officials to look upon ROC as "the main threat coming out of the Soviet Union" since he came here in 1988, and that law enforcement officers at the local level need to "shake hands and have a chance to work together directly, so we can do something positive to fight organized crime."

Employment Past

Not only does Gadzhiyev's KGB career inspire apathy among his peers, he seems to have practically eluded the notice of his immediate superiors. Evita Coleman-Wright, a spokesman for the Broward County Sheriff's Office, was quoted in an October 1st wire service story as saying, "We know that he was a lieutenant colonel in the KGB and we've been using him as a consultant on organized crime with our Strategic [Intelligence] Division." A similar account was provided by Crankshaw, who told THE NEW AMERICAN that "Emin's been working as an expert consultant on corruption and the Soviet mafia, and he's done some work for other police departments across the country."

However, when THE NEW AMERICAN contacted Linda Brooks, who directs the Strategic Intelligence Division of the Broward County Sheriff's Office, Gadzhiyev's name failed to register. "Who? He worked here? I have no idea who he is," Brooks told THE NEW AMERICAN. "I supervise all our agents and I've never heard of him." After a copy of the wire service story was faxed to Brooks, her secretary tersely informed us, "We don't have such a person as you mentioned and Ms. Brooks isn't interested in discussing the matter further."

But THE NEW AMERICAN obtained a copy of Gadzhiyev's employment application from the Public Information Office at the Broward County Sheriff's Department. In the application, Gadzhiyev candidly lists his first employer as "KGB, USSR." Under the heading "Description of Duties" he states that he "Supervised 35 Special Agents, organized and conducted investigations for state companies, [and] supervised and inspected temporary detention facilities." Appended to the application is a reproduction of his graduation certificate for "completing KGB University named after F.E. Dzerzhinskiy in the 25th year of the founding of the school."

Gadzhiyev's application states that he was employed by the KGB from 1975 to 1984, after which he spent four years as chief of the Security Department for the Soviet "Academy of Science, Space Research." After leaving the Soviet Union in 1988, Gadzhiyev spent a year working for "Premier Executive Services" in Miami, where he "Summarized articles from Soviet magazines, advised clients," and performed other tasks "For [the] U.S. Government"; it was during this time, according to Crankshaw, that Gadzhiyev was under the supervision of the CIA. * 

The "ex"-KGB officer's professional fortunes took an interesting turn in 1993, when he was hired as a technical adviser to the Caspian Petroleum Corporation, in which capacity he "Served as technical adviser between major clients and ... coordinated research and development in Russia and Azerbaijan." In 1994, Florida Governor Lawton Chiles appointed Gadzhiyev "Commissioner of Deeds for the State of Florida in the Countries of Russia, Ukraine, and Byelorussia," a commission which runs until 1998.

Expert Thief

Gadzhiyev's background makes him an uncommon police academy applicant, to say the least. In fact, by any measure he is over-qualified for the position he seeks. "He was trained from a young age in KGB schools, including Spetsnaz [Soviet Special Forces] training," Crankshaw observes. "He's an experienced paratrooper and demolition specialist. He speaks numerous languages, including Turkish and several other Middle Eastern dialects." He is also a remarkable physical specimen, despite being in his mid-40s. "The physical instructors at the academy call him 'Godzilla,'" Crankshaw reports. "After he earned a score of 89 on his physical training test, his instructor called him in front of the group -- most of whom are athletic guys less than half Emin's age -- and he told them, 'All you guys look at Godzilla; he scored 89, and most of you scored 70.'"

Further demonstration of Gadzhiyev's KGB credentials was his supervision of the theft of a prototype of the tiles used in the Space Shuttle's heat shield. "The KGB's First Directorate [which conducted espionage and sabotage operations abroad] learned that an American scientist who specialized in heat physics would be addressing a panel on space exploration in Italy," Crankshaw recalls. "This scientist would be carrying two prototypes of the tiles to be used in the Space Shuttle. Those tiles were classified as 'secret' at the time, and he took extraordinary pains to keep them secure."

"The KGB kept dossiers on just about everybody, and they learned that this particular scientist was a rabid soccer nut. At that time, the Russian soccer team was very famous," Crankshaw continues. "So a KGB agent made contact with the scientist posing as a soccer official and offered him a chance to suit up and play with the Russian soccer team. He was flown on Aeroflot to Moscow, and from there to Baku, the capital of Azerbaijan. He was careful to keep the metal suitcase with the tile prototypes nearby at all times."

Once the scientist arrived in the Soviet Union, he was handed off to the KGB's Second Directorate, which assigned Gadzhiyev to the case. Under Gadzhiyev's direction, KGB special agents prepared a special sealed room at the soccer stadium in which the scientist could change clothes. "He was handed the key and told that he would be able to keep the room in sight at all times," Crankshaw relates. "What he didn't know was that the room had a false wall in back, and hiding behind that wall were a lockpicker, a photographer, and a KGB investigator, and so they had no trouble at all breaking into his locker, opening the briefcase, and stealing one of the tiles. He never saw anybody enter or leave the room." Nor was the theft of the shuttle tile -- for which Gadzhiyev was awarded the Red Star of the Soviet Union -- a solitary triumph; notes Crankshaw, "He's got a ton of stories like this."

Change of Heart?

According to Crankshaw, Gadzhiyev's Chekist career was cut short when he collided with corrupt KGB officials. "Emin was sent to investigate an oil refinery fire in Baku and he discovered that he couldn't account for the volume of oil that had been destroyed in the fire. He later learned that the general in charge of his KGB unit was a black marketeer."

Appalled that such a scoundrel could be found within KGB ranks, Gadzhiyev went to Moscow to the second highest-ranking official in the KGB's Second Chief Directorate. However, when he returned to Azerbaijan, he was targeted for an assassination attempt, and he discovered -- once again, to his horror -- that the Second Directorate's second in command was part of the same black market network.

Reeling from the betrayal of his idealistic faith in the KGB, Gadzhiyev arranged to travel to Yugoslavia, where he visited the U.S. embassy and asked for asylum. "It was a Sunday, so nobody was at the embassy to deal with my request," Gadzhiyev recalls. "So I ended up in a Yugoslav jail for more than six weeks." Officials from the Soviet embassy in Belgrade met with Gadzhiyev in prison "and asked me if I was going back or not, and I said I wasn't going back because of problems between the Armenians and Azeris in Baku." Despite Gadzhiyev's KGB background and his knowledge of corruption at the highest levels of the agency, the Yugoslavs did not extradite him. Instead, a UN commissioner intervened and offered him UN protection, reportedly at the behest of our federal government.

After arriving in the U.S. in 1988, Gadzhiyev spent an unspecified amount of time doing unspecified work for the CIA. He also received an educational grant from the State Department, which he used to study English and obtain his pilot's license. Additionally, he found time to work as a private investigator in the San Diego area "with a retired Secret Service agent." After relocating to Florida to attend flight school, he became a consultant on organized crime at the Broward County Sheriff's Office and for other law enforcement agencies.

Crankshaw observes, "Early on he warned about the threat that organized crime would pose with the breakup of the Soviet Union. He's done a lot of work with our people trying to help them understand and deal with that threat." Apparently, this work was not confined to the Broward County Sheriff's Office: His employment application mentions service with the FBI and lists two FBI special agents and one supervisor among his references.

Critical Questions

Yet there are critical questions which are left unanswered: Is Gadzhiyev an American success story, or a living security breach? Might he be a "sleeper" agent or an asset of a KGB-aligned mafia group?

Gadzhiyev insists that he and his former KGB colleagues are not collaborating with Russian organized crime, but are rather its sworn and most effective enemies -- and that there are many others like himself ready and willing to donate their services in the fight against this new global threat. "I'm not the only one out here," he told THE NEW AMERICAN. "I know many others, [including] some from the Second Chief Directorate, from organized crime units, from the militia ... not only from the former Soviet Union, but from the East European Bloc as well, who are working odd jobs or working with computers. There's a tremendous resource that's not being used."

According to Sergeant Mike Smith, who heads the Russian Organized Crime Task Force for the Philadelphia Police Department, this "resource" would be tainted at best. Sergeant Smith, who offers training on the problems of Russian organized crime to law enforcement agencies across the country, pointed out to THE NEW AMERICAN that "it is extremely difficult to know how much we can trust anybody who has been connected to any of the Soviet security services. Many of the most vicious KGB officials have set up private security firms in Russia, which offer 'protection' from the mafia but are actually working in collaboration with them. It's possible that some of the Russian gangsters might import the same tactics here." Significantly, Gadzhiyev has worked as a private investigator and security consultant since arriving in Florida -- occupations in which mafia-aligned "ex"-KGB officials are routinely found in Russia.

In fact, according to Smith, KGB gangsters have apparently attempted to penetrate American law enforcement agencies by posing as specialists in the fight against organized crime. "About a year ago, a law enforcement agency in San Francisco got a visit from a group calling itself the Moscow Police Organized Crimefighting Regional Department -- supposedly a SWAT team-style elite unit to battle the mafia," Smith recalled. "They were supposed to go on a multi-city tour to consult with various law enforcement agencies. But we checked with an intelligence source and learned that the original members of that group had been replaced by former KGB operatives who are now involved in organized crime. We were able to derail that particular venture, but with the kind of travel that takes place today, it's difficult to know how many other situations of this sort we might find."

"I would be very leery of anyone connected to any of the Soviet or Russian security services who offers himself as a 'consultant' on organized crime," Smith told THE NEW AMERICAN. "We're leaving ourselves open for trouble. Furthermore, in the case of someone like Gadzhiyev, you're dealing with a person who was a highly placed and decorated KGB officer who has subscribed to that agency's disciplines and ideals."

Smith pointed out that the potential danger will increase if Gadzhiyev becomes a police officer. "As a consultant on Russian organized crime, he was in a position to learn a great deal," Smith noted. "However, as a law enforcement officer with the same specialty, he will attend conferences all across the country and learn from the inside about all of our anti-mafia efforts and strategy. Gadzhiyev's story may appeal to some on a human interest level, but he would be in a position to do a lot of damage if he proves to be less than legit."

According to Frank Cilluffo, an adviser to a Senate task force on Russian organized crime, "It's almost impossible to know when we're helping the criminals" when U.S. law enforcement agencies are involved in joint ventures with Russian law enforcement and intelligence officials. Furthermore, he warns, "The KGB's still got their active networks all over the world, including their sleeper networks. Nobody knows the extent to which those networks are involved in mob activity, or are carrying out strategic designs on behalf of the Russian state -- and those objectives overlap, of course."

KGB Control

Gadzhiyev remains well-connected with petroleum and other business interests in the former Soviet Union. Following the "collapse" of the Soviet Union in 1991, Gadzhiyev recalls, "I was invited back to Azerbaijan by the newly elected democratic government in Baku. I went back and I was very proud and glad of what happened." However, when his erstwhile KGB superior General Geidar Aliyev became the Azeri president in 1993, "I was nearly imprisoned and I left." He spent another two years in Moscow brokering joint ventures between business interests in Florida and the former Soviet Union; during this period, he recalls, "I met a lot of my former colleagues in various capacities." This is not surprising: According to Sovietologists J. Michael Waller and Victor J. Yasmann, more than 80 percent of all such joint ventures are either infiltrated, or controlled outright, by the KGB.

It is impossible to believe that Gadzhiyev would have been shocked to discover black marketeering in his KGB unit. As Stephen Handelman points out in Comrade Criminal: Russia's New Mafiya, the KGB enjoyed a "special position at the nexus of the black market and officialdom during the 1980s." This despite a vigorous "anti-corruption crusade" conducted by KGB chairman Yuri Andropov in the 1970s. "No one believed for a moment that the KGB had suddenly uncovered a vast new pool of lawbreakers, or even that the unlucky apparatchiki caught in the sweep were more culpable than the majority of their grafting comrades," Handelman writes. "It was a campaign motivated purely by political considerations...."'

The KGB's Second Chief Directorate was deeply involved in both the mafia-dominated black market and in periodic "anti-corruption" crusades. Russian expatriate author Yevgenia Albats, a KGB scholar, recalls that from 1990-91, the Second Chief Directorate conducted a high-profile campaign against graft, corruption, and organized crime, carrying out dramatic raids of warehouses and cooperatives in search of "hoarders" and "skimmers." However, as Albats points out, "the KGB has a habit of turning all its battles into assaults of human rights":

At the height of perestroika, in the winter of 1990-91, the KGB announced that it was going after the mafia's economic stranglehold, whereupon Gorbachev issued a decree granting KGB agents the right ... to "unimpeded entrance to the premises of businesses, offices, organizations ... and production spaces used by citizens for enterprises of individual labor."

Predictably, the problem of organized crime proved impervious to the KGB's campaign, and for good reason: As former Lithuanian Vice President Algirdas Katkus pointed out in 1995, the Russian mafia "is organized, staffed, and controlled by the KGB." The true target of Russian "anti-crime" crusades, observes Albats, is the law-abiding population: "Our citizens have been reminded that whatever they do, whatever work they take up, the Chekists will be watching them."

Handelman notes that after the "collapse" of the Soviet Union and the emergence of the new mafia threat, "large groups of former [KGB] employees turned up working as 'consultants' for businesses" in Russia. Others offered similar services to Western business interests. Waller and Yasmann point out that a KGB training and operations manual published in 1989 stated that in the era of perestroika, "'active reserve' or 'operational reserve' officers no longer needed to mask their identities when approaching foreigners; indeed, it was becoming an asset to announce one's 'former' career in the KGB because foreign businesses thought it attractive -- Chekists could provide security and get things done like no one else." Similarly, the curious case of Emin Gadzhiyev suggests that a KGB background may be an asset for those seeking employment in contemporary American law enforcement.

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